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Learn the most important maneuver from the most important pilot!

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  • In an airplane like this Mooney . . . Bonanaza . . . Archer! LOL!!! C'mon man, have a little respect for the Rockwell Commander you're sitting in, man! :p
    For the Cirrus, I use Dallas! Uh Huh! ROFLMAO!
    As to the outtake on the BRS parachute, if that discussion COULD power an airplane, you could run a whole fleet of Cirrii for a year!

  • In Florida, you do your turns around a point around the bathing beauty that's trying to get rid of her tan lines somewhere in the dunes. DPE is guaranteed to not even notice whether or not your doing turns around a point, or loopdy loops, as long as you keep her in view. Instant pass. Plus, as long as your in a Bonanza, there is no way the girl would mind, after all she's getting just as good of a view. #VTailMasterRace

  • There were a lot of things we couldn’t do in an Cirrus, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the Chutemobile. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment. It occurred when Carl and I were flying our final FAA avoidance sortie. We needed 100 hours in the Serious to complete our training and attain Chute Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn around Dallas and the Sirius was performing flawlessly. My glass panels were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying off autopilot, but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the magenta lines in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the Cumulus. I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Carl in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying outside of Class Cirrus airspace, when a priority transmission of "With you" to tower could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire Youtube career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Carl wasn't so good at many things, especially that he couldn’t match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in VATSIM squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Carl had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to pull the chute into their airspace. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Bonanza pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: November Charlie 175, I’m showing you at 3 knots on the ground. Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Bonanza, or to Trump Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the “ HoustonCentervoice.” I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country’s space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houstoncontrollers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that… and that they basically did. And it didn’t matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios. Just moments after the Bonanza's inquiry, a Twin Airbus piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his groundspeed. Twin Airbus I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed. Boy, I thought, the Airbus really must think he is dazzling his Bonanza brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-19 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. Center, Dusty 420 ground speed check Before Center could reply, I’m thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 420 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol’ Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He’s the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: Dusty 420, Center, we have you at 1337 on the ground. And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Carl was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done – in mere seconds we’ll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Yellowjacket must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 42 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet for Carl to for once not shut up. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Carl and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: Los Angeles Center, Vapemaster 69, can you give us a ground speed check? There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. Vapemaster 69, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two million knots, across the ground. I think it was the forty-two million knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Carl and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: Ah, Center, much thanks, We’re showing closer to nineteen hundred thousand million on the money. For a moment Carl was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the HoustonCentervoice, when L.A.came back with: Roger that Vapemaster Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one. It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Carl and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day’s work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

  • Totally hit the nail on the head, every check ride I've had, there has been a grass strip over on the left a little way back. The instructor only ever points it out after you've lined up on the elementary school playground that you were totally going to grease it onto anyway.

  • I swear the Cirrus must be the fastest most elite airplane in modern existence! Congrats on being a member of such a club!

    • It beats the heck out of my Grumman. Although what the Grumman lacks in speed, it makes up in swagger.
      Lots of people think both planes are ugly though.

    • I think the they are both pretty beautiful in their own respects. The Cirrus has that modern class and functionality, but the Grumman has that utilitarian bravado – kind of like an old Jeep.

    • Aero360Aviation kind of funny you make that connection. I got the Grumman about 6 months ago and that's exactly how I described it to people as my little Sky Jeep. I checked out your website. It looks like you are in Tulsa. I was actually born there in St Francis Hospital. I briefly worked over somewhere around 15th and Sheridan about 20 years ago. if you're ever in the Dallas-Fort Worth area look me up and I'll take you for a ride.

    • Hey that sounds awesome! I have friends in Mckinney, so I do end up down that way from time to time. I would love to get together at some point. Thanks for checking out my site as well. I have not been able to be as regular with it lately as I would like to, but aviation is very near and dear to my heart, and I love how you are able to continue finding humor and irony for your channel. The first video of yours I saw was a year or so ago a friend of mine who is a Cirrus pilot showed me the "how to preflight a Cirrus" video and we were both literally in tears laughing!

  • Next time you do a video, please do it 40 years in the past so that now I will have taken advantage of it.

    Thank you.

  • Haaaaa there’s a puppy on the ground. I’m surrounded by Cirri (Cirruses) so this is pretty funny. Fun channel.

  • I was taught ,but forgot, a way of executing a turn about a point in a Cessna, by looking the wing. It was either the stout or the wing tips. Anyone out there can provide any insight?

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